


Twittering Birds Never Fly

by WhoknewZeus



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: AU, M/M, Sex, Violence, af, based on saezuru tori wa habatakanai, it's based off of something I read before, it's going to be lit, mob fic, shameless pervert, the yaoi manga, well mention it in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7281526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoknewZeus/pseuds/WhoknewZeus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you mess with the Gladers, you may meet their infamous leader, the sadistic pervert, Thomas. Being part of the black market along with doing a few acts of terrors on citizens to get his money, Thomas had no problem sinking his fangs on things that got in his way. His henchman developed a concern that he would be seriously hurt on the job, so they requested to have a personal bodyguard for Thomas. When the hot Asian bodyguard comes in through the door, Thomas had no problem shamelessly stirring the pot between them. </p><p>Underneath all the lewd acts, can Thomas get closer to the bodyguard, or will the caged bird stay enclosed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twittering Birds Never Fly

**Author's Note:**

> This was based almost off of the manga that literally translate to Twittering Birds Never Fly. The manga is a yaoi, male-on-male stuff, and it's FUCKING good. I love it to death and may or may not have cried (fuck yeah). Read it if you want, but anyway, enjoy the mob fic and stuff!

“You can decide where you want to go from here, bud,” Thomas warned, giving a small caress to a guy who was tied down by rope to a chair.

 

“Kill me, you motherfucker!” The guy cursed, spitting to Thomas’s smiling face.

 

Thomas wore an expensive black and white suit that fitted from neck to ankles. With a snap of his fingers, men in black came out of the shadows in the background and roughly put a bag over the guy’s head. “Hang him nude, boys. And don’t forget to dump his body on the doorstep of his wife and kids, please.”

 

“Yes, boss.” Thomas’s henchmen obliged.

 

“Wait, wait! Not my family! Not in front of them! Please!” The restricted male started a clamor.

 

“Will you talk then?” Thomas hummed a cheerful tune.

 

“Yes, fuck,” the tied up male sighed, “I will talk to you where my contracter hid the money. Just… don’t hurt my family.”

 

Thomas wickedly smile. “I sincerely hope to not resort to killing a father _and_ his family.”

 

***

 

Thomas was in his mid-twenties and was the head of one of the infamous gangs in Paradise city — the Gladers. He terrorized all the citizens of the city that owned him money while participating in a major black market for illegal drugs. He had his men placed in the police department to help cover up his illicit acts, and it would shroud his existence to the government as well.

 

He was appointed the leader when the past leader died and said that his most trusted pupil must take on the position. The fact was that Thomas did not have any parents because he was abandoned when he was younger and had no knowledge of who they were.

 

He lived with his uncle until the age of sixteen, but his life was nothing close to a perfect household. Thomas’s uncle was known to be an alcoholic at night and would drunkenly beat Thomas down until the dawn. Sometimes if Thomas’s uncle was drunk enough, he would also forcibly commit sexual acts on Thomas.

 

It was not until the uncle had gambled a little too much with the Gladers and was killed to pay for his debt. They mentioned to Thomas that his uncle was pleading for his life before his last breath, and the uncle also begged to have his own nephew be sold off or killed in replacement of his own life. Thomas held nothing sympathetic for his disgusting uncle, but Thomas was taken by the Gladers to be trained to be of the past leader’s personal henchmen.

 

Thomas was a great shooter, and he had a knack of being sadistic in his fighting style. He was trained until he was absolutely different from the runt he was before with his uncle. Something Thomas excelled out was being seductive to his prey before luring them to kill them off heartlessly. The past leader enjoyed that very much, and he did not care that Thomas was seducing almost all of his peers.

 

Thomas was also given an almost normal life by being sent to middle and high school. Although, he banged more than half of the male student body, for he still had the top grades of his class. Thomas was lustful and dangerous; a shark swimming in shallow waters underneath a school of fishes.

 

Thomas may have been fucked up because of his dead uncle with the constant sexual abuse Thomas had to endeavor until it was way past the breaking point. Maybe Thomas was a little crazy to crave the pain and lust each time his uncle got drunk. There were never soft kisses and slowness like in the movies, for there was only desperate thrusts accompanied by hundreds of sweaty beads among their nude skin.

 

The past leader of Gladers commented on Thomas’s history as one turning a bad event into a revolver to use against others. It was Thomas’s motivation to be a killing slut, and it was more than effective to state. After graduating high school, Thomas never went to college because he began pursuing his job as the past leader’s trusted pupil.

 

Thomas sat in his office bored out of his mind. He wondered what the past leader did in the same room besides do a few paperworks and taking appointments. It almost felt like an office job to Thomas, but he was proactive on the usage of his gang power to control how he wanted to do things.

 

Fed up of the silence due to Thomas finishing all he had to do, he took his phone out and texted his henchmen in charge of tracking where all the money for the Gladers had gone to. The advisor Newt was known to the Gladers to being an utmost respected guy while holding a strong poker face.

 

Thomas thought of having a little fun with the British man until something else took his interest.

 

***

 

Gally came into Thomas’s office naively. “Oh sweet virgin Mary!”

 

“Close the door if you’re not going join, Gally!” Thomas panted as he was bent over his desk with Newt pounding behind him.

 

“Why are you so slutty, Pres?” Gally said, opening his scarred eyes to the scene.

 

“B’cuz I can, so shut up or give me your dick and shut me up with it!” Thomas was thoroughly enjoying the sexual pleasure that Newt was delivering.

 

Gally looked at Newt suspiciously with his wonky eyebrows. Newt shrugged as he said, “Oh git used to it, mate.”

 

Disapproving of all what he had seen and heard, Gally turned around to exit the room. “Oh, Mr. Thomas, you have a new guy that was supposed to be appointed as your personal bodyguard.”

 

Thomas did not remember signing up for a personal bodyguard, but he did understand that there was going to be nothing to protect for Thomas besides getting blue balls. The leader did contemplate the personal bodyguard more enticing, and he guessed that he did not need to do much in crimes since his bodyguard could do it all. Thomas was totally game for the idea.

 

Newt finished up and continued to resume to his work. Thomas sat down in his chair in his office feeling satisfied with the sex. The door opened again to reveal a tall Asian male with toned out arms. Thomas was feeling his sex drive turning up once more. “And who do I have the pleasure of meeting today, sexy?” Thomas instantly flirted.

 

“Your personal bodyguard, sir. My name is Minho, and I was hired recently due to your men being concerned of your well-being when out in public,” the Asian replied formally with no smiles, closing the door behind him. Although he stared at Thomas dully without diverting attention anywhere else.

 

Thomas scanned the bodyguard’s muscular-built yet average-weight body and moved from his chair to where the other male was standing. He did like how the color of the Asian’s hair was black as night and styled in a faux-mohawk. “How about you get undressed and let me do a full-body examine?”

 

Minho did not respond to it, but he did comply to the orders. He unbuckled his belt and allowed his pants along with his boxers to drop to the floor shamelessly. Thomas had one eyebrow perking while his body moved to meet Minho’s limp ‘friend.’

 

As he tried to suck the flaccid dick, Minho had no emotion nor did he move away from Thomas’s tongue; the Asian bodyguard stood there like a statue. Minho did not even make a sound to the slurping noises coming from Thomas’s unholy mouth. Minho did not care if his dick was tossed around by the other male’s tongue in a strategical swirl. Minho’s dick stayed soft as the ice cream served to him at a fast-food restaurant.

 

“Why aren’t you reacting to my techniques?” Thomas had to ask, continuing to flicker his tongue on the tip of the soft dick.

 

“I’m impotent, sir.”

 

Once Minho’s pants were put back on, Thomas laid back on his desk chair in his office. “Sorry about that there. You do know what you’re being hired for, correct?”

 

Minho sat in an luxurious chair that had to cost at least over two-thousands dollars. He liked that his superior had taste and surely expense. There was still no shame to his earlier actions with Thomas, though. He did not like nor hate the sudden blowjob. Minho could not care about it if it were not endangering Thomas’s life because that was what he was hired for. Nothing else.

 

No music was played in Thomas’s office because he enjoyed the outside sound of cars passing in and out. Thomas still had a job to do, sadly. Which also meant he had to start dragging his new bodyguard like a puppy to see the horrific scenes they will have to see.

 

Being a thug was not exactly a glamorous life.

 

“Follow along, Minnie. Or else I might have to drop rat poison in your food!” Thomas sang as he exited the office.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

***

 

“Impotent, huh? How unfortunate.” Thomas rambled while sitting comfortably in his black limo. One arm on knee while his legs stayed crossed. Thomas uttered, “A man I cannot have is better off a dead man.”

 

“Would you like me to kill myself, sir?” Minho stated plainly, pulling out a black pistol from under his coat and placing it against the side of his skull.

 

“No, dumbass, that would not be necessary,” Thomas smiled without little concern that his bodyguard would willingly commit suicide. “I like your loyalty, Minnie mouse. Can you keep following this cat around without being _eaten_ first?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Thomas frowned after noticing that Minho had a straight face still. Was there really nothing to get through to that guy’s defenses? Thomas always found satisfaction in reactions of others, causing others distress or discomfort made Thomas a happy man. He also found it exciting to have a male pound the same discomfort and pain into him as well. A sadist yet a masochist in one body.

 

The black limo arrived at an abandoned warehouse. Minho nonchalantly walked out of the vehicle along with Thomas. “Come along, Minho. I require your sexy arms to protect me.”

 

Minho still had no reaction to the shameless flirting besides, “Yes, sir.”

 

The place had plenty of remnants of what it had before, but it also seemed that it was harboring a lot more than junk. There was another group of gangsters in punk-rock clothing. Their absurd hairstyles surely fitted their bad boy and girl image. Minho stood side by Thomas unmoved by any of the death glares from the other end. “What pleasure do I have seeing you all today?” Thomas greeted warmly.

 

“Cut the shit, man,” the leader spat, “we know you’re the type of man that smiles even when angry or provoked.”

 

“Naughty, naughty boy,” Thomas sassily commented. “Did any of you even think of carrying a gun into this warehouse?”

 

“No because we can just beat you down with our bats if we need to,” the leader corresponded.

 

Thomas nodded to the gesture after looking carefully at all the members, seeing they each held an iron bat to their liking. “I see.”

 

Minho did not seem fazed by any of the matters being discussed. His only true duty was to protect Thomas as much as possible. It was his job and what he was being paid for. Thomas smiled as more vulgar words came flowing out like honey, “I know you’re gay, Mr. Leader, and if you want to have a few rounds with me, you simply have to ask.”

 

“W-What!?” The leader was instantly flushed. “Whada take me as? A faggot?”

 

“Sure, I mean, as long as you get to whip out your thang and mess my mind up with it.”

 

The leader of the other group was beginning to get irritated with Thomas’s provocativeness. It was surely disturbing how shameless one male could be to the leader. He looked at all his fellow members and said, “Kill him.”

 

Thomas stepped a little back and whispered to Minho’s ear, “Let’s test if you are capable of handling this much for me, boy.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

***

 

Thomas and Minho were in the limo again unharmed. They had the leader tied in place next to Thomas. The leader was shaking in fear as he witnessed one man single-handedly take down his entire gang without hassle or the usage of a gun. He knew one thing was for sure — the Asian was not human. No one should be able to possess that much strength to fight off that many people.

 

Thomas was on his knees in front of the leader. “Let’s have some fun, yeah? Tall, yellow, and scary over there is impotent, so he isn’t much fun.”

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Minho was beginning to bow his head.

 

“No, no. You did great today, sweetcheeks,” Thomas began comforting Minho.

 

The leader of the other gang was unsure of what was happening between them. There was something underlying as intimate between the two, but the space provided between them made it clear where their acquaintanceship drew the line. The leader also knew that the Thomas was somebody fucked up as a human because that male had no chains of the law on his morals.

 

“If I told you, Minnie, to put a gun to his head and shoot it off, would you do it?” Thomas questioned while unzipping the leader’s pants.

 

Minho pulled out the same black pistol and directed it exactly at the leader’s forehead. He was a centimeter away from pressing the trigger until Thomas ordered him to stop for the reasoning that he had not gotten the chance to ‘blow off’ the guy first.

 

As the Asian sat patiently in the limo, grunts and slurps echoed the concealed space between them. Minho watched as Thomas rode the restrained male, expecting the sweet sounds from Thomas to help his impotence, but it still did nothing.

 

“Tissue, now, bodyguard,” Thomas chirped, catching his breath again on the leader’s shoulder.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

***

 

The simplicity of words was something Thomas was very familiar with. Knowing how to manipulate someone with a tone that could convince them to change their heart was a necessary skill for Thomas to survive. It was also second-nature to the boss of the Gladers to be able to read people excellently.

 

Thomas kept a torture room in the deepest part of his building because it was the best way to stay clear from the radar from cops.

 

There was a male that was disturbingly hard to crack. Thomas’s men had beaten and tortured the hostage as much as they could without sending the guy to heaven or hell.

 

Nothing worked out.

 

The henchmen had no choice but to inform Thomas to take care of it instead. You would be surprise how commodious the torture room served.

 

As Thomas walked down a set of stairs in the dark, a lit hallway was shown on the bottom right, and from there Thomas would continue his path until he reached a new hallway. It had a line of doors that each would be able to contain one person for exclusive ‘persuading.’ He entered the room on the farthest left. Minho stayed behind but kept a distance safe enough to keep Thomas under his surveillance.

 

Thomas glanced at Minho before sending his gaze at the hostage. “I think you better stay outside of this door. My methods are unconventional, but you may follow if you wish.”  

 

Minho did not respond nor did he move. Thomas understood the action and proceeded to walk in with the Asian bodyguard following along. Thomas had an appointment with his prisoner. “I heard some pretty good things that you’re a tough one to nut, Mr. Sanderson. ”

 

“W-What?” Mr. Sanderson did not comprehend what the other male was saying. Sanderson was still tied up to a chair.

 

“Mint cookies, come here and help your pitiful boss out,” Thomas whined.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Thomas had instructed Minho to pull out a table behind of Mr. Sanderson. After setting up the initial order, Thomas then commanded for Minho to take Mr. Sanderson out of the chair and lay him out over the table. “Hold his wrist really good. If you can, do his ankles as well,” Thomas chirped as he began loosening his red necktie.

 

Minho did not need to respond, for he could complete the task without question. Thomas climbed upon the sturdy furniture before saddling Mr. Sanderson. “You tell me where your boss’s headquarters are, and I won’t have to resort to grotesque methods. Okay?”

 

“Eat shit, scum,” Sanderson spat in Thomas’s face directly. Thomas chuckled before he began unbuttoning his shirt.

 

“I’ll keep that mind, Sandy.”

 

Minho kept an insane grip over Sanderson’s limbs to inhibit him from moving. Thomas was already undressed down to being nude on his lower regions. Thomas played with his hair a little before undoing Sanderson’s pants. “No feelings to your lover, right?”

 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sanderson gnarled at the risky exposure of his cock to Thomas.

 

“Oh,” Thomas whipped out Sanderson’s soft dick nonchalantly, “I _would_.”

 

Thomas gave the flaccid dick a stroke and then another noticing it staying in its limp stage. “You have some really nice foreskin. Would be a shame if I decided to change that status right now.”

 

Mr. Sanderson understood what Thomas implied and began violently struggling underneath Minho’s hold. The Asian had no trouble keeping the hostage contained, and Thomas was enjoying the taste of worry and fear running inside of Mr. Sanderson’s skin and face. A spider’s venom did not necessarily have to kill its prey in the first strike, for it just needed to be strong enough for the venom to paralyze the prey.

 

“Minho, you don’t happen to have a knife hidden in your pants?” Thomas calmly and kindly asked.

 

“Left pocket, sir.”

 

Thomas dug into Minho’s left pocket to find a small retractable blade hidden safely inside. “Thank you, Minnie.”

 

Mr. Sanderson wiggled desperately along with his exposed dick while Thomas eagerly wanted to damage the personal goods. Thomas slid his tongue on the edge of the knife without cutting his soft flesh. The monster of a human being transitioned the knife against Mr. Sanderson’s ‘hood.’ “What do you say we stop this silly mess and tell me where you all are really hiding at?”

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mr. Sanderson’s sweat was dripping down his chin. He never felt as threatened as he did at that moment. “I-I-I won’t tell y—ah!”

 

Thomas began splitting the delicate and sensitive skin down by one centimeter. “I can keep going to complete the procedure until you talk.”

 

“You’re the devil,” Mr. Sanderson was breathing like a dog, and his lower body was stinging in pain while his limbs were clogged in numbness.

 

“Thank you, I work hard to get where I am,” Thomas retorted formally, proceeding to cut another centimeter in the middle of Sanderson’s squishy flesh.

 

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

 

“That’s mah boy.”

 

***

 

After working under Thomas for three months, Minho was accustomed to the way Thomas handled everything. Thomas was generally a _pervert_ ; he liked the way someone can manhandle him but also enjoyed people that were suffering. All of the ropes, the slaps on the ass, the threesomes, everything was delightful to the brunet devil.

 

Thomas found pure joy out of someone in excruciating anguish. Thomas sometimes would get a hard-on seeing _really_ good expressions of pain. Thomas mentioned he despised gentle and slow sex, and it was exactly that type of sex that Minho seemed to portray to Thomas, so Thomas declared he would not have sex with the Asian bodyguard for that particular reason.

 

Minho was waiting for his sadistic boss to get out of the shower since Thomas had nothing else to do at work. Minho was still obligated to follow Thomas around until stated otherwise.

 

Once the shower head was switched off, a moment later the wet brunet came out with a towel wrapped around his waist little too low. Minho was standing guard next to the queen bed that Thomas had, but his eyes wondered lower to glance at the v-line that shaped nicely on Thomas’s lower body. “Hey there, Mr. Impotent Bodyguard.”

 

Minho kept quiet but his attention was directly at Thomas. The Asian male kept his posture and remained unmoved by Thomas’s deliberate words of provocation. The brunet wanted a reaction from the Asian, and a reaction would not be played out as the boss would have wanted. It was purely down to Minho’s character that he was not the type of person to be triggered by words nor actions.

 

The emptiness in his eyes were there since the time of his high school years. The harsh reality of adulthood kicking Minho deep in the ass early on made him mature at a shockingly fast rate. There was nothing special about the world nor was it even that great — it was shitty, terrible, violent, and all sorts of fucked up. Minho knew enough of that side of the world to know that it would be like that once high school threw him out.

 

Maybe it was Minho’s fault for being too isolated towards people. His world just did not revolve around letting people come near the birdcage he trapped himself in. Thomas brought Minho to reality from his head by passing by the Asian. Thomas’s pale body plopped upon the white bed, then shifting positions to be laying on his side while facing towards Minho’s direction naked. “I want one order of a caseless weiner, please,” Thomas stated.

 

“Yes, sir,” Minho could only plainly replied, getting up to head out to buy what Thomas had requested.

 

“God,” Thomas stopped Minho from leaving with his feet. “I want to suck your dick.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Minho robotically uttered, allowing Thomas to take off the belt of Minho’s pants. Thomas was expecting the time that Minho spent with the brunet boss to yawn or show any other emotion besides indifference. There had to be more to the Asian than what Thomas had thought, but he could not figure out how to crack the walnut.

 

A commodious mind was not a good mind to Thomas, but he knew that the bodyguard was hoarding all sorts of information in that tight head. All the secrets to the past of someone so indifferent and strong. Thomas wanted to break in and take all the delicious information and use it to put Minho through some suffering.

 

“You have no problem with me playing with this, right?” Thomas teased the limpy private part in his hand as he lied down on his stomach comfortably. The flabby dick slightly moved on its own, but Thomas was unsure if he was actually getting through Minho’s impotence or if his tongue was making Minho’s dick move a bit.

 

Minho did not answer to the question, whether it was a real rhetoric or not. Thomas smiled as if he was the chesire cat and continued sucking on the dick in front of him. He had tried using as many of the techniques he learned through the years on Minho, but it had proven to be useless in effort to make the Asian erect.

 

Although, Minho stretched his arm out and almost touched the damp hair that belonged to Thomas. He may have wanted to play with it, let his hand brush through it as if it were a comb, and needed to feel what Thomas’s drenched locks would be like between the spaces of Minho’s fingers. But his hands stopped like a car at red light.

 

Subconsciously Minho’s mouth played, “You’re beautiful.”

 

Thomas looked taken aback, but he regained posture and retorted, “ ‘cuse me?”

 

“Nothing, sir,” Minho shamelessly muttered.

 

Thomas seemed obviously annoyed at the actions. “You will speak if you wish your head to still be attached to your body.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Minho straighten himself out, “I think you look beautiful as you are.”

 

Thomas almost seemed piqued but there was something else hiding underneath that smile. “When did you think like that, limp dick?”

 

“I thought you were always beautiful,” Minho laid his hand down to his side, “from the moment I walked into your office, you struck out as beautiful to me, sir.”

 

It was like the frozen time that Thomas’s heart was thawed, and it began to move on its own again. It almost bothered him like a disease, the beating feeling in his chest. Thomas wanted to eradicate it.

 

“I’m done here for today,” Thomas got up and began moving around the room. “You can go home, Minho.”

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Minho apologized, thinking his words annoyed his superior. “Please let me stay.”

 

“No, you can’t. You have a home you can return to, don’t take mine.”

 

Minho understood where he overstepped. It should have been like that if his honesty and loyalty to Thomas did not interfere. The words that were supposed to stay in the air from Thomas’s sights landed and crashed like a paper airplane. Minho stood behind the door and contemplated over his next course of actions while Thomas laid in bed doing the same.

 

“I fucked up,” the two idiots said in sync.

 

***

 

Thomas woke up to his usual empty bed and thought about getting laid with someone could cheer the sudden gloom in his heart. A swallow stayed trapped in a cage that reality set. Thomas thought he had been lacking on sexual satisfaction lately because Minho had been keeping him occupied.

 

Silence ate up all the noise in Thomas’s apartment. It only ran away once the shower was turned on and Thomas’s thuddingly walking footsteps echoed ubiquitously. Choosing one suit over another and what tie could possibly match, Thomas decided to skip out on breakfast to save himself the hassle. He opened his front door and a sleeping body fell into his apartment. Analyzing the face of the person, Thomas recognized what he saw. “Minho?”

 

“Y-Yes, sir,” Minho woke up suddenly to Thomas’s voice, as if it were second nature to the Asian already. “Good morning.”

 

“What are you doing there?” Thomas immediately asked, crossing his arms with an indifferent face.

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Minho began his statement, “I beg of you, don’t fire me.”

 

Thomas saw none of his neighbors, so he thought he could enjoy the scene a little longer. Minho’s voice was resonating the entirety of Thomas’s apartment. It festinated in an octave that Thomas was already too familiar with. And then he heard it for the first time in Minho’s mellifluous words. “Please, Thomas. Let me stay.”

 

It fluttered away. The bird in his heart; a swallow flying free into the clear sky. “Okay, get out of way and I won’t fire you.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Minho returned to his usual speech. The twittering bird stopped again, and Thomas was grateful for his heart for calming down.

 

“We have work we have to get back too.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

***

 

Minho was with Newt waiting outside of Thomas’s office. Minho was informed by the sex-crazed boss that it was official business that he had with the rather handsome guy in a flashy suit. Newt smiled next to Minho before talking, “Y’know, mate, they ain’t talking in der.”

 

Minho’s slow-starting brain figured the gist of what Newt had said. He was about to reach for the door handle before Newt held him back. Of course Minho knew that the door would be locked, and he should have thought of that before trying to subconsciously open the door.

 

“The boss hasn’t had anyone lately,” the British male laid back against the wall cooly, “and I think it’s particularly your fault.”

 

“Excuse me?” Minho dumbfoundedly stared at Newt.

 

Newt let out a heavy and obvious sigh. “You nitwit, Tommy treats you different than any other subordinate here. He’s so cautious of you, as if you can snatch something precious to him at any second.”

 

“I’m not interesting. I’m not up to his taste,” Minho doubted himself, but it was a good sign to Newt to see the robotic bodyguard had actual feelings and was not a machine that Thomas ordered from a foreign country.

 

“B’cuz of how bad Tommyboy’s history was, his defenses always stayed up to keep anyone from getting close to him,” Newt pulled out a cigarette box from his pocket. “Who wudda thought it was gonna be you?”

 

“Please stop talking now,” Minho requested, unsure if his poker face was going to hide the uncertain feeling stirring in his chest.

 

Thomas opened the door and began walking away from the scene. “Newt, kick him out once he’s done with himself. Nice Arms, come along.”

 

Minho obliged to Thomas’s command as so did Newt. The truth could honestly be laced in Newt’s words, but Minho was too afraid of Thomas not being by his side. The bodyguard would follow wherever the broken swallow would hop to with his little feet.

 

The limo ride was slightly bumpy due to road construction lately. The work done on the road had also caused traffic to be really backed up. Thomas sat in his regular arms-crossed-legs-crossed position. Minho sat still but his heart was starting to betray his usual attitude. “Sir?” Minho openly asked.

 

“Hm?”

 

“I-I,” Minho stammered, something that was still relatively new to him, “can you refrain from doing anything to me today?”

 

Disinterested and possibly irritated by the request, Thomas replied, “No.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Minho sighed, turning his head to divert his attention to the surrounding cars that were stuck along with them in traffic.

 

Thomas gripped the heim of his tie and loosened it. Unbuttoning his shirt and vest, he felt exposed in a sensation he never did before. Maybe it was because he was doing something his heart wanted to do on its own. Crawling on the seats to where Minho sat, Thomas was glad that the windows were heavily tinted. “Hey,” Thomas softly spoke, letting his head fall to the side by an inch.

 

Minho consciously directed his head to where the voice came from — it was there. Those strong, determined brown eyes that could capture his soul in a quick flash. “Yes, sir?”

 

“Thomas, call me by my name,” Thomas almost pleaded, heart done in for, with his hands crunched against the leather seating. “Please.”

 

“Thomas,” Minho calmly allowed the name to rest on his tongue. It felt actually good to say the name in a nonchalant manner, as if they were close enough to not be bodyguard and mafia boss. The red piece of string lining up against his throat strangled his being so tightly.

 

Not using anymore words, Thomas dived his lips into Minho and tasted the bodyguard’s saliva for the first time. It was funny, maybe ironic, to Thomas. He had kissed and allowed guys to ravish his body for so long that he felt nothing special about people touching him anymore, _but_ there was something more to Minho’s fingers aligning to the curves on the side of Thomas’s body.

 

It was reciprocated by Minho that drew Thomas back a mile. Their simultaneous closing of their eyes allowed their other senses to augment. It was magniloquent to have such a sensation bite and properly churn Thomas’s beaten-down heart. The iron bars that were placed there melted until it looked like soup and then dried to form a new landscape.

 

Miraculously, Minho’s pants was starting to get tighter than before. Thomas snaked his hands down Minho’s chest to feel the growing erection. “What’s this?” Thomas separated the kiss for a moment to check out what he was palming.

 

“Shit,” Minho was almost left breathless from the kiss, and it was possible his cheeks were rosy from the stimulation that was occurring by the friction of Thomas’s hand.

 

“Do you like me?” Thomas straightforwardly asked, moving his lips closer to Minho’s again. “I _wouldn’t_ mind if you said yes.”

 

“Yes, sir, I mean, Thomas,” Minho was struggling underneath the closing space between their lips. It was only a few centimeters away before impact. Thomas smiled as if he caught a scandalous picture, and then he killed Minho — not physically but in a way that crushed his soul as if it were an old car that was sent to be recycled. Thomas kissed Minho again.

 

Thomas giggled, not something Minho was adjusted to, and he let out a content sigh, “Wake up, Minho. Twittering birds never fly.”

 

Something snapped inside of Minho, and he took Thomas with strong arms to lay the brunet down on the leather seating of the limo. Minho had something burning deep inside of his eyes that needed to be extinguished by Thomas. "Sir, I don't think I can hold back this time."

 

"No one's stoppin' ya," Thomas muttered, letting his lifeless arms stay above his head. "Just be careful down there. A little rusty lately."

 

Minho eagerly peeled off Thomas's dress pants and noticed a pleasant surmise that Thomas had gone without underwear. The bodyguard gave his boss a surreptitious look before Thomas took it upon himself to answer it. "I was lazy, so what?"

 

 Shrugging to the remark, Minho continued on to touching the hard-on that Thomas had twitching like a kid with a sugar-rush. Thomas wanted the pleasure of touching himself down there, but the bodyguard had stopped him. The caged swallow was free only to be placed into another bigger cage. The thrill of the new cage was the idea that it was so differing in juxtaposition to the old one. The cars outside honked, though it did nothing to mend the traffic. Minho timidly slid the side of his finger against the shaft of Thomas's willing cock. Adding another finger into the mix, and then another, and another, and another until all five fingers were present and wrapped around the entire width. 

 

One stroke caused Thomas to slightly move by a few inches. Two strokes caused Thomas to shimmy underneath the hold. Three  _fast_ and hard strokes made Thomas involuntarily moan like a bitch in heat. Repeating the third option again, Minho allowed the honey-sweet sounds fill the back of the limo in an atmosphere of lewdness. The air was contaminating Minho's mind because he was starting to desire the utterly destroyed face that Thomas made when he orgasm. By giving Thomas firm and swift strokes in many successions caused the brunet to lose his self-control over his voice box. 

 

It was everything Minho wanted to hear: Thomas, his boss, crying out because of Minho groping his body inappropriately. The fear that his impotence was the only thing keeping Thomas interested in Minho was fading away like the sands of time. Would wind be the same? Flying around in fear and then turning into a chaotic storm before it went back to normal? Did earth crumble before it became an earthquake? 

 

Thoughtless questions filling up Minho's mind, but the bodyguard wished to have done more of thoughtless actions than bubbles floating in his head. First he took the tip of Thomas' cock and sucked on it. "Wait, wait, you don't need to, ah!" Thomas' back arched away from the leather seat as the length of his cock traveled deeper behind the small pair of lips. Lies were something built by people to hide the truth, but how can Thomas hide the lie that his body was feeling good? When Minho licked it at a certain pace, speed, and force. Who could not feel satisfied? 

 

Minho noticed once he stopped sucking that Thomas's back returned to being flat. The brunet's breath was at a lost pace, and it was  _good_ to hear that it was tiring the male out. Minho missed the passionate sounds of Thomas releasing out a breath that was high in pitch but needy in tone. It was kind of... sometimes... maybe...  _sexy_. 

 

Not waiting for a second to go to waste, Minho locked his arms on the upper part of Thomas' thighs where it connected at the hip and lifted him up. With a clear view of Thomas' pink hole, Minho shamelessly slurped at the anus. Thomas' was vivid in his voice and may have cracked at some point because it was wearing down. Numerous guys had a taste of Thomas, but Thomas never thought it would feel insanely amazing the way Minho did it. Although the technique was nothing special, it was surely the person behind it that was special, and, whether Thomas realized it or not, Minho had been given the key to enter the cage long ago.

 

His tongue ravished and turned Thomas' hole into wet mush. The stimulation was so pleasurable that Thomas' nipples were erected despite not being touched at all. The straight-face that Minho had always kept was crumbling apart, and it looked sexually frustrated, hungry, determined, strong,  and another emotion that Thomas was unable to distinguish. What it had been was a dormant love. 

 

"Keep doing that, please, I  _need_ it, Minho," Thomas articulated in the spur. The fact that he had use the first-name of the bodyguard instead of a ridiculous nickname made Minho shiver and want to insert his own shaft into Thomas.

 

"You're making this hard to be slow and gentle," Minho commented.

 

Thomas was panting before he was able to conjure words, "Don't need to treat me like I'm fragile. I'm not made out of glass."

 

"You asked it for, Thomas," Minho shrugged, smiling for once, which caused Thomas' heart to skip a few beats.

 

Unbuckling his belt leather belt and undoing the button of his pants, Minho pulled down the boxer briefs until his penis was shown into Thomas' view. Not bothering to lube himself, thinking that maybe the rimming was enough to do the trick, Minho transferred Thomas' legs to wrap around the Asian's waist. Leaning forward while pressing his head at the little hole, Minho looked at Thomas with concerned eyes as if Minho was doubting it would be painless for the brunet.

 

"Just fucking do it!" Thomas semi-yelled, knowing it was going to hurt regardless. It was better to not think too hard about thrusting a penis inside of an asshole. 

 

Minho used his famous line that Thomas had grown to secretly like, "Yes, sir."  
  


It went in. It went in of Thomas as slow at first before it went in all at once like a train going inside of a tunnel. Every inch of burning sweet pain against every single millimeter of Thomas' anal walls until it reached a dead end. Thomas knew the spot too well to be oblivious to the sensation. It was his prostate that was soon being rubbed against in up and down motions. Minho breathed out hot steam after letting himself feel the pleasure ring through his body. It had been too long since he had his penis feel catered to in such a lewd manner. 

 

Thrusting into the sensitive and vulnerable part of Thomas, Minho was finding it blissful to know that he was the one Thomas was moaning for once. Backing his gluts back before pushing it forward again, it was a repetitious movement that brought a thrill to Thomas' nerves. He was already used to Minho's length and practically letting the bodyguard do as he truly pleased. 

 

"Never have I felt this good," Thomas confessed, drooling slightly due to failing to swallow all the saliva that was pooling in his mouth. "Don't stop, please."

 

"Don't plan to," Minho also confessed.

 

The glass on the windows of the limo were beginning to fog up heavily. The vehicle shook like a rocking chair while the driver was unfazed by what was going on in the back. He only played his music louder to cancel out the sounds. It was not his business to meddle with, anyway.

 

A minute turned into two. Two turned into four, then it turned into eight. It always kept multiplying itself until Thomas' legs grew numb the seats were dripping with their shared sweat. It was about time Minho was going to climax inside of Thomas, and he did not leave a warning for his boss and went for it. Thomas arched his back once more with more power, and his eyes rolled back until he swore he saw something flash. With that final thrust that sent Minho shooting his slimy white fluid into Thomas, the brunet also came without the usage of hands. His entire chest was covered in his own cum, and it trickled to side by a small inch each time Thomas' chest expelled a quick breath.

 

"That. Was. Good." Thomas remarked in short sentences. 

 

"Thank you," Minho was staring plainly at the mess that Thomas created. It was honestly beautiful. Thomas had a lot facets to him, and Minho admired and adored them all. He would never want to lose the boss to anyone because he wanted to protect Thomas at any cost. 


End file.
